After what feels like a long absence, I have found my way back home to NYC. The Ohio trip was nothing short of amazing. Amazing because of how much has changed in West Chester since I was in high school. Amazing because even though it was just a week, I missed Gretchen quite a bit. Amazing because of friendships that are one in a million -- like what I have with the members of Quad One.
We had an unexpected detour on the bachelor road trip (I am not permitted to refer to the trip or any subsequent trip as a "palooza"). In the heart of Amish country, after we had all settled down to a nice Friday lunch at a restaurant where they serve broasted chicken and rolls with peanut butter whip, Lee began experiencing severe abdominal pain. We soon had to rush him to the Wooster hospital, allegedly one of the busiest in the state. It was soon determined that he was suffering from a bowel obstruction similar to the one that forced him to have a major emergency surgery last summer. We were all very worried about the situation.
Jeremy, Bryan and I sat in the waiting room -- making phone calls to family members to make them aware of what was going on, amending the weekend plans, and reading the yellow pages and using iPhones to determine what our local dinner and hotel options were, in case we would have to spend the night in Wooster. (Did you know that you can find fine Italian cuisine at a local place called "El Rancho Grande."?) Dan, the in-house doctor of the Quad, helped the local physicians at every stage of the crisis, especially helping them understand Lee's prior surgical history.
Fortunately, Lee's condition improved and we were able to get him transferred to Columbus, where he had an overnight stay and was released late Saturday afternoon. We were all relieved and thankful that he did not have to have another surgery. When the emergency was unfolding, I was not sure whether I would have to say goodbye to Lee at the hospital on my way to the airport on Monday. This was something I hoped to avoid at all costs. To have him back with us by mid-weekend was a genuine blessing. We all came out of the experience with a sense of what is really important in this "short visit" that life gives us.
Dave Matthews was right. Turns out not where, but who you're with that really matters.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Ohia
I have not had a chance to write in a few days. Memory lane has kept me well occupied. I enjoyed a wonderful weekend with my parents in Cincinnati. Their new house is very close to my old high school, which allowed me the opportunity to swing by and see my favorite person in high school academia, my old journalism teacher Mr. Hume.
I also had the chance to make the rounds to all the great Ohio eateries that cannot be found in NYC. Skyline Chili. Montgomery Inn (ribs). Panera Bread (I know there is allegedly one in Queens, but I looked for it once and have concluded it is just a myth). Donatos is still on the list. I may check that one off later today, as I am now in Columbus staying with my good friends Lee and Lea Delaveris.
On Thursday, Dustinpalooza officially kicks off. By midnight on that day, a group of my close friends I have known since high school will have assembled here at Lee's, gearing up for the start of our Ohio Bachelor road trip Friday morning. The plan is to make our way to Cleveland for a Cavs game Friday night. Merriment will be had.
I find myself thinking a lot about Gretchen and my dog, and I miss them. But the nostalgia of good old 'Ohia' has been a much needed experience as I sense the new era of my life just around the bend.
I also had the chance to make the rounds to all the great Ohio eateries that cannot be found in NYC. Skyline Chili. Montgomery Inn (ribs). Panera Bread (I know there is allegedly one in Queens, but I looked for it once and have concluded it is just a myth). Donatos is still on the list. I may check that one off later today, as I am now in Columbus staying with my good friends Lee and Lea Delaveris.
On Thursday, Dustinpalooza officially kicks off. By midnight on that day, a group of my close friends I have known since high school will have assembled here at Lee's, gearing up for the start of our Ohio Bachelor road trip Friday morning. The plan is to make our way to Cleveland for a Cavs game Friday night. Merriment will be had.
I find myself thinking a lot about Gretchen and my dog, and I miss them. But the nostalgia of good old 'Ohia' has been a much needed experience as I sense the new era of my life just around the bend.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Let the Madness Begin
Get your brackets ready! At noon today every office dweller will struggle to be productive. Every student in school will eagerly watch the clock in anticipation of the final bell. Cell phones will be converted into score checking devices. It's March, and the Madness is about to begin.
Soon we will all become acquainted with schools we have never heard of -- Portland St., North Dakota St., Radford -- as they take on the giants of college basketball. Stephen F. Austin. This is not a player or a coach. This is a team, and they are gearing up for the game of their lives against Syracuse. All of these small schools are ready to vie for the annual somewhat awkward comparison to Disney's Cinderella.
I too have a bracket, one sheet of integrity. And today I reveal it, because, well, even President Obama has revealed his picks. Here we go:
MIDWEST:
Louisville
Ohio State
Utah
Wake Forest
West Virginia
Kansas
USC
Michigan State
Louisville
Wake Forest
West Virginia
Michigan State
Louisville
Michigan State
Louisville
WEST:
UConn
A&M
Purdue
Washington
Utah St.
Mizzou
Cal
Memphis
UConn
Purdue
Mizzou
Memphis
UConn
Memphis
Memphis
EAST:
Pitt
Oklahoma St.
Florida St.
Portland St.
VCU
Villanova
Texas
Duke
Pitt
Florida St.
Villanova
Duke
Pitt
Duke
Pitt
SOUTH:
North Carolina
Butler
Illinois
Gonzaga
Arizona St.
Syracuse
Clemson
Oklahoma
North Carolina
Gonzaga
Syracuse
Oklahoma
North Carolina
Syracuse
Syracuse
FINAL FOUR:
Louisville
Memphis
Pitt
Syracuse
CHAMPIONSHIP:
Louisville
Pitt
CHAMPION:
Louisville
Let the tournament begin!
Soon we will all become acquainted with schools we have never heard of -- Portland St., North Dakota St., Radford -- as they take on the giants of college basketball. Stephen F. Austin. This is not a player or a coach. This is a team, and they are gearing up for the game of their lives against Syracuse. All of these small schools are ready to vie for the annual somewhat awkward comparison to Disney's Cinderella.
I too have a bracket, one sheet of integrity. And today I reveal it, because, well, even President Obama has revealed his picks. Here we go:
MIDWEST:
Louisville
Ohio State
Utah
Wake Forest
West Virginia
Kansas
USC
Michigan State
Louisville
Wake Forest
West Virginia
Michigan State
Louisville
Michigan State
Louisville
WEST:
UConn
A&M
Purdue
Washington
Utah St.
Mizzou
Cal
Memphis
UConn
Purdue
Mizzou
Memphis
UConn
Memphis
Memphis
EAST:
Pitt
Oklahoma St.
Florida St.
Portland St.
VCU
Villanova
Texas
Duke
Pitt
Florida St.
Villanova
Duke
Pitt
Duke
Pitt
SOUTH:
North Carolina
Butler
Illinois
Gonzaga
Arizona St.
Syracuse
Clemson
Oklahoma
North Carolina
Gonzaga
Syracuse
Oklahoma
North Carolina
Syracuse
Syracuse
FINAL FOUR:
Louisville
Memphis
Pitt
Syracuse
CHAMPIONSHIP:
Louisville
Pitt
CHAMPION:
Louisville
Let the tournament begin!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Boy Meets Grits
I enjoy watching cooking shows. And Gretchen's love of cooking has led me to watch a great deal more food-related shows than I ever have before. We like the competitive (Top Chef, Iron Chef America) and the non-competitive (Giada, Barefoot Contessa, Flay). Giada is the most entertaining. From her unnecessary application of a heavy Italian accent to any word that sounds remotely Italian, to her unnecessary cleavage, there is much to mock. Did I mention her husband rides around on an electric skateboard (which is almost as funny as the rocket skateboard)?
But my favorite show for finding recipes that I would actually use is Bobby Flay's Boy Meets Grill. Yesterday, they had an episode where his wife makes him his annual birthday dinner. A key part to the meal every year is Jalapeno Cheesy Grits. With my mom's family being from the South, I am well acquainted with grits. They go very well with a southern style breakfast. My only knock on grits is that unless you go heavy on the butter, they tend to be a bit bland.
People who know me know I am a huge fan of spicy foods. The hotter the better. Wings, Mexican, Indian -- I love foods that bring the heat. I was very surprised that I had never heard of these 'hot' grits. Maybe for my birthday this year I can convince Gretchen to make me some grits with a little fire in them.
But my favorite show for finding recipes that I would actually use is Bobby Flay's Boy Meets Grill. Yesterday, they had an episode where his wife makes him his annual birthday dinner. A key part to the meal every year is Jalapeno Cheesy Grits. With my mom's family being from the South, I am well acquainted with grits. They go very well with a southern style breakfast. My only knock on grits is that unless you go heavy on the butter, they tend to be a bit bland.
People who know me know I am a huge fan of spicy foods. The hotter the better. Wings, Mexican, Indian -- I love foods that bring the heat. I was very surprised that I had never heard of these 'hot' grits. Maybe for my birthday this year I can convince Gretchen to make me some grits with a little fire in them.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Be Good or Be Gone
There is a famous little Irish pub in the East Village called McSorley's. 1854. That was the year that this magical place opened. Of all the glorious dram shops this city has to offer, nothing compares to the wonderful saloon that is McSorley's.
From the moment you step in and the sawdust on the floor sticks to your wingtips or sneakers, you are immediately aware of the history that surrounds you. Irish history. American history. New York history.
One beer is served in two half pint glasses. There are only two options: light or dark ale. If you don't care for a beer, they keep bottles of Coke in a refrigerator that looks several year older than anyone you know. The light fixture hanging above the bar contains dozens of wishbones coated in about two inches of dust. They are from one of the World Wars. Just before the soldiers left they put the wishbones up there and said they would get retrieve them when they came home. Those wishbones up there today are from the soldiers who never returned. They have remained untouched for generations out of honor and respect.
Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, John Kennedy -- almost every president since the civil war has made a stop in McSorley's. On St. Patty's Day, a line forms to get in as early as 7:00 a.m. and remains throughout the entire day. It is an annual pilgrimage, for locals and out-of-towners alike. It is the St. Patrick's Cathedral of pubs. Many of the servers have Irish accents and a few are even the descendants of John McSorley himself.
Carved in wooden signs a couple of places in the bar is their motto: Be Good or Be Gone. I always wonder who in the last 150+ years was asked to 'be gone.' Leaving McSorley's is something you never want to do for good.
Slainte!
From the moment you step in and the sawdust on the floor sticks to your wingtips or sneakers, you are immediately aware of the history that surrounds you. Irish history. American history. New York history.
One beer is served in two half pint glasses. There are only two options: light or dark ale. If you don't care for a beer, they keep bottles of Coke in a refrigerator that looks several year older than anyone you know. The light fixture hanging above the bar contains dozens of wishbones coated in about two inches of dust. They are from one of the World Wars. Just before the soldiers left they put the wishbones up there and said they would get retrieve them when they came home. Those wishbones up there today are from the soldiers who never returned. They have remained untouched for generations out of honor and respect.
Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, John Kennedy -- almost every president since the civil war has made a stop in McSorley's. On St. Patty's Day, a line forms to get in as early as 7:00 a.m. and remains throughout the entire day. It is an annual pilgrimage, for locals and out-of-towners alike. It is the St. Patrick's Cathedral of pubs. Many of the servers have Irish accents and a few are even the descendants of John McSorley himself.
Carved in wooden signs a couple of places in the bar is their motto: Be Good or Be Gone. I always wonder who in the last 150+ years was asked to 'be gone.' Leaving McSorley's is something you never want to do for good.
Slainte!
Monday, March 16, 2009
My Letter To Bus Cook
Jay Cutler will soon no longer be the quarterback of the Denver Broncos, now that his agent has formally asked for a trade. I wrote a message to his agent. Thought I'd share...
Dear Bus Cook,
I have loved the Denver Broncos my entire life. I have loved watching Jay as our QB the last three seasons because he was the best thing that happened to the franchise since Elway's retirement.
Given the unfolding situation with Cutler, I have just a couple of things to get off my chest. So even though this letter will only be something for one of your unpaid interns to skim over coffee, it is something that my frustration won't allow me to go without saying.
I see right through the quotes in the papers. I know this is all about money. Your money. You see an opening to negotiate a blockbuster deal for Jay and you've pounced. At every point when the situation looked like it was going to be resolved in-house, your quotes appeared in a story shortly after, stoking more controversy.
I know that you are just doing what a good agent does. Because you don't love a team. You don't feel the highs and lows on Sundays in the fall like us -- the fans. You only love your cut of what a team is willing to pay.
But I believe you have done a disservice to your client this time. Jay had a good future in Denver. Off the record, you know I'm right. But now that Brett's gone, you had to find a way to get Jay on the market. You knew that was going to be hard given the fact that no rational organization trades its star QB at the start of his prime.
But you saw that it was irrational season in Denver. It was irrational to fire a coach like Shanahan who was one win away from winning the AFC West last year. It was irrational that he was replaced by a 32-year-old whose experience amounts to folding Bill's hoodie for 4 years. It was irrational that Bowlen or McDaniels would not meet with Jay immediately before or after the regime change.
You saw the opportunity and you pounced. And at every turn, you worked Jay. You made him believe the slogan that would get you to payday: Jay is not their choice to be quarterback of that team.
"That team." That team has been a part of my family for generations. That team is what we talk about at the Thanksgiving table. That team is what gets my grandmother up early on Sunday so she can decorate her apartment with my deceased grandfather's Broncos gear before church.
That team is headed for a fall. And so is Jay, when he lands with some bottom feeder who will pay him almost enough to make him be able tolerate not achieving his potential.
I hope this deal is the biggest in history. I hope every recruit for the next 10 years comes out of school begging to sign up with Bus -- saying he really knows how to get brass to cut a check for a QB.
Because if you don't, I will spend the next 10 years asking why. Why did you Judas my favorite team and my favorite player with the same knife?
Dear Bus Cook,
I have loved the Denver Broncos my entire life. I have loved watching Jay as our QB the last three seasons because he was the best thing that happened to the franchise since Elway's retirement.
Given the unfolding situation with Cutler, I have just a couple of things to get off my chest. So even though this letter will only be something for one of your unpaid interns to skim over coffee, it is something that my frustration won't allow me to go without saying.
I see right through the quotes in the papers. I know this is all about money. Your money. You see an opening to negotiate a blockbuster deal for Jay and you've pounced. At every point when the situation looked like it was going to be resolved in-house, your quotes appeared in a story shortly after, stoking more controversy.
I know that you are just doing what a good agent does. Because you don't love a team. You don't feel the highs and lows on Sundays in the fall like us -- the fans. You only love your cut of what a team is willing to pay.
But I believe you have done a disservice to your client this time. Jay had a good future in Denver. Off the record, you know I'm right. But now that Brett's gone, you had to find a way to get Jay on the market. You knew that was going to be hard given the fact that no rational organization trades its star QB at the start of his prime.
But you saw that it was irrational season in Denver. It was irrational to fire a coach like Shanahan who was one win away from winning the AFC West last year. It was irrational that he was replaced by a 32-year-old whose experience amounts to folding Bill's hoodie for 4 years. It was irrational that Bowlen or McDaniels would not meet with Jay immediately before or after the regime change.
You saw the opportunity and you pounced. And at every turn, you worked Jay. You made him believe the slogan that would get you to payday: Jay is not their choice to be quarterback of that team.
"That team." That team has been a part of my family for generations. That team is what we talk about at the Thanksgiving table. That team is what gets my grandmother up early on Sunday so she can decorate her apartment with my deceased grandfather's Broncos gear before church.
That team is headed for a fall. And so is Jay, when he lands with some bottom feeder who will pay him almost enough to make him be able tolerate not achieving his potential.
I hope this deal is the biggest in history. I hope every recruit for the next 10 years comes out of school begging to sign up with Bus -- saying he really knows how to get brass to cut a check for a QB.
Because if you don't, I will spend the next 10 years asking why. Why did you Judas my favorite team and my favorite player with the same knife?
Saturday, March 14, 2009
CHICAGO
We're going to a Broadway play today. It is something that I don't get to do very often, but the couple of times I have been, I have had fun. We decided to go see Chicago, a story I enjoy because one of the main characters is an attorney in the second city.
My friend Bryan is a lawyer in Chicago. He works in the Sears Tower, which is now going to be called the Willis Tower according to news reports this week. I will have to get his take on the name change.
If you ever get the chance, visit Chicago in the summer when they do the Taste of Chicago. It is one of the best street food festivals in the country. If you go, I recommend a cheeseburger cheeseburger cheeseburger from the Billy Goat Tavern food tent. It is the perfect compliment to Chicago in the summer.
My friend Bryan is a lawyer in Chicago. He works in the Sears Tower, which is now going to be called the Willis Tower according to news reports this week. I will have to get his take on the name change.
If you ever get the chance, visit Chicago in the summer when they do the Taste of Chicago. It is one of the best street food festivals in the country. If you go, I recommend a cheeseburger cheeseburger cheeseburger from the Billy Goat Tavern food tent. It is the perfect compliment to Chicago in the summer.
Friday, March 13, 2009
McJaygate
If you follow the Broncos, or even the NFL for that matter, you have probably heard about the ongoing dispute between emerging star quarterback Jay Cutler and the new head coach Josh McDaniels. I must disclose that I felt the firing of coach Mike Shanahan was one of the worst moves the franchise has made in the last 25 years, and I am a huge fan of Cutler. Therefore, I will refrain from weighing in too much because my views are one-sided.
But I wanted to share this article from Woody Paige at the Denver Post. It really drives home a point I have made to anyone I have discussed the saga with, and that is that the Denver defense is the reason this team has been shackled in mediocrity for the past three seasons. It is the defense that should be 100 percent of the new coach's focus this offseason. No QB - not Peyton, Brady or Elway - can win when your defense is giving up 30+ points on a regular basis. The article illustrates this well.
It is so difficult to find a franchise QB in the NFL. While ours has been losing more games than winning them in his young career, the reason for the losses is not Cutler's play. It is a defense with players who adjust their gloves mid-play instead of making a tackle. It is a defense that celebrates and high-fives when they give up a 7 yard run on 1st and 10. Cutler is the one player that has kept this team from records of 3-13 or 4-12, which has happened to some of our AFC West foes.
To recap how the feud has unfolded: (1) Denver entertained offers to trade Jay Cutler for Matt Cassel and a couple of draft picks (2) the trade falls through and Matt Cassel becomes a Chief (3) Jay Cutler learns from the media (not the coach or the owner) that he was being shopped (4) Denver's front office denies ever attempting to trade Jay (5) Jay is not told definitively by the team he will not be traded (6) Jay freaks and stops talking to anyone, including owner Pat Bowlen (7) Jay and the coach agree to meet to smooth things out, but they end up doing it by conference call (8) it is leaked that during the call McDaniels told Jay that anyone can be traded at any time under his watch, a 180 from his public quote "We are not going to trade Jay Cutler. Period." (9) the situation is reported as going "from bad to worse" and there is speculation on whether Jay will show up at OTAs on Monday, and (10) Denver's defense remains lousy, with the exception of an upgrade at safety by the signing of Brian Dawkins.
Good grief. I hope the Denver front office gets its priorities in order fast, or Denver fans may be headed for another season lost.
But I wanted to share this article from Woody Paige at the Denver Post. It really drives home a point I have made to anyone I have discussed the saga with, and that is that the Denver defense is the reason this team has been shackled in mediocrity for the past three seasons. It is the defense that should be 100 percent of the new coach's focus this offseason. No QB - not Peyton, Brady or Elway - can win when your defense is giving up 30+ points on a regular basis. The article illustrates this well.
It is so difficult to find a franchise QB in the NFL. While ours has been losing more games than winning them in his young career, the reason for the losses is not Cutler's play. It is a defense with players who adjust their gloves mid-play instead of making a tackle. It is a defense that celebrates and high-fives when they give up a 7 yard run on 1st and 10. Cutler is the one player that has kept this team from records of 3-13 or 4-12, which has happened to some of our AFC West foes.
To recap how the feud has unfolded: (1) Denver entertained offers to trade Jay Cutler for Matt Cassel and a couple of draft picks (2) the trade falls through and Matt Cassel becomes a Chief (3) Jay Cutler learns from the media (not the coach or the owner) that he was being shopped (4) Denver's front office denies ever attempting to trade Jay (5) Jay is not told definitively by the team he will not be traded (6) Jay freaks and stops talking to anyone, including owner Pat Bowlen (7) Jay and the coach agree to meet to smooth things out, but they end up doing it by conference call (8) it is leaked that during the call McDaniels told Jay that anyone can be traded at any time under his watch, a 180 from his public quote "We are not going to trade Jay Cutler. Period." (9) the situation is reported as going "from bad to worse" and there is speculation on whether Jay will show up at OTAs on Monday, and (10) Denver's defense remains lousy, with the exception of an upgrade at safety by the signing of Brian Dawkins.
Good grief. I hope the Denver front office gets its priorities in order fast, or Denver fans may be headed for another season lost.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
DGT
The wedding feels a lot closer today as I am ordering my groomsmen/usher gifts today. I have something planned that I think the guys are really going to like. The best thing about it is that I am having the gifts monogrammed. I don't particularly like monogram gifts or anything (in fact, I find the whole monogram industry a bit corny), but I have noticed that just about every groomsmen gift can be and usually is monogrammed. And I am not about to miss out on my one chance to put the initials of my close friends on a gift.
I am geared up for some customized fun -- three letters at a time.
Today is March 12. In just three short months, we'll be going to the chapel.
I am geared up for some customized fun -- three letters at a time.
Today is March 12. In just three short months, we'll be going to the chapel.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Olive and Rupert
My dog Olive has far too many toys. I am constantly picking them up from every part of our apartment and putting them in her toy basket. That lasts about 5 minutes and then they are scattered all over again. Olive has one toy she is particularly fond of: her stuffed pink bear Rupert. The name is a Family Guy reference. Like Stewie, Olive is inseparable from her Rupert.
The problem is that she has had Rupert since the day Gretchen's parents brought her home. Needless to say, the wear and tear on the toy is becoming substantial. She has chewed a hole in its rear end and a bag of pebble-like stuffing is coming out. Worried that this could be harmful to Olive if ingested, we have been taking it away from her lately. This usually does not go over well with her. Rupert is her security blanket.
There are many "Ruperts" that we hold on to. I have a "Box of things that Dustin likes" under my bed. These are items that we do not have room to display in our apartment right now, but which I could not stand to see thrown away. One day they will go in the dream basement I will build (this is something I think about at least once a day), but for now they will sit under the bed.
I imagine we'll have to sew Rupert's tear at some point.
Speaking of Olive, she has learned to play Black Jack. Take a look. Also, being the social butterfly that she is, she has decided to join Twitter. Collectively, she is a remarkable animal.
The problem is that she has had Rupert since the day Gretchen's parents brought her home. Needless to say, the wear and tear on the toy is becoming substantial. She has chewed a hole in its rear end and a bag of pebble-like stuffing is coming out. Worried that this could be harmful to Olive if ingested, we have been taking it away from her lately. This usually does not go over well with her. Rupert is her security blanket.
There are many "Ruperts" that we hold on to. I have a "Box of things that Dustin likes" under my bed. These are items that we do not have room to display in our apartment right now, but which I could not stand to see thrown away. One day they will go in the dream basement I will build (this is something I think about at least once a day), but for now they will sit under the bed.
I imagine we'll have to sew Rupert's tear at some point.
Speaking of Olive, she has learned to play Black Jack. Take a look. Also, being the social butterfly that she is, she has decided to join Twitter. Collectively, she is a remarkable animal.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
MAC Tournament starts today
In 2005, I went to Cleveland and watched my Ohio Bobcats win the MAC tourney and advance to the NCAAs for the first time in a decade. It was one of the most thrilling sporting events I have ever watched live and a memory I will always hold dear. The game ended with Ohio's Leon Williams tipping the ball in as time expired to give the Bobcats a 80-79 victory in OT.
The Bobcats have not been able to get back to the dance in the four seasons since that win. And by the looks of their team this season, I am banking on an early elimination from the MAC tourney, perhaps even today when they face Western Michigan in the first round. However, being the superfan that I am, I woke up this morning and put on my Ozone t-shirt. The Ozone is the student cheering section for Ohio University sporting events, though primarily for men's basketball.
For a mid-major school, it is one of the loudest student sections around. I think it has been a large factor in why the Bobcats have been so dominant at home over the years. The Convo is a place that every team, whether a conference foe or from the ACC, dreads coming to play in. And the Ozone has a great signature Winning Team/Losing Team cheer near the end of the game if you are ever in Athens and have the chance to attend a game. Stand up and cheer today.
The Bobcats have not been able to get back to the dance in the four seasons since that win. And by the looks of their team this season, I am banking on an early elimination from the MAC tourney, perhaps even today when they face Western Michigan in the first round. However, being the superfan that I am, I woke up this morning and put on my Ozone t-shirt. The Ozone is the student cheering section for Ohio University sporting events, though primarily for men's basketball.
For a mid-major school, it is one of the loudest student sections around. I think it has been a large factor in why the Bobcats have been so dominant at home over the years. The Convo is a place that every team, whether a conference foe or from the ACC, dreads coming to play in. And the Ozone has a great signature Winning Team/Losing Team cheer near the end of the game if you are ever in Athens and have the chance to attend a game. Stand up and cheer today.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Once a 'Regular'
I read an article this morning on things that consumers tend to overpay for on a daily basis, one of which was coffee. The point of the article was that the money you spend on a cup at a Starbucks adds up exponentially over the course of the year and that you could save hundreds or thousands just by making coffee at home. I made the mistake my first year of law school of getting my coffee out in the city more than I would make it at home. And it does add up.
It is rare these days that I don't brew my own, but I do occasionally like the "local" cup of joe. There are two kinds of local coffee in New York: Deli coffee and coffee shop coffee. Deli coffee is remarkably uniform throughout the city, and strangely enough all shop owners use the same brown and yellow cups. The large cups at Delis are still slightly smaller than the smallest Starbucks cup. And there is no half and half. Whole milk. The shop owner always pretends to have just run out of half and half, but we all know what's going on. But hey, if I had to pay the rent for a deli in the city, I would be trying to shave every penny off of overhead too.
Then there is the coffee shop coffee. These beat Starbucks and Duncan's every day of the week in my book. They have comfortable furniture. The walls may contain exposed brick. The muffins and black and white cookies are truly homemade. Even the grumpy line of pre-caffeinated zombies on there way to sky rise offices are, well, a little less grumpy.
Coffee shop coffee reminds me of Athens, Ohio, where I attended Ohio University. That college town is home to some of the best homegrown coffeehouses on the planet. And for a few years, I was a "regular" at many of them. Perks is a closer replica of "The Central Perk" from 'Friends' than anything I have found in New York City. The Donkey is like being in the house of your favorite professor -- you can't help but want to do something studious or discuss the obscure political problems of a country you nor any of your friends will ever visit. The Front Room (RIP) provided a place to always bump into old friends between classes, a place to watch infant musicians take the stage before their first audiences, and a place that reminded you how familial a 20,000+ student body could be. My brother tells me there is a new place called Bibliotech which I must try next time in town.
The thing that you don't get at coffee shops in NYC are "regulars." There are just too many coffee options. Too many uniform brown and yellow kiddie cups. There are probably more "regulars" at certain bars in the city than at coffee shops. More often than not in this town, we all brew our own.
It is rare these days that I don't brew my own, but I do occasionally like the "local" cup of joe. There are two kinds of local coffee in New York: Deli coffee and coffee shop coffee. Deli coffee is remarkably uniform throughout the city, and strangely enough all shop owners use the same brown and yellow cups. The large cups at Delis are still slightly smaller than the smallest Starbucks cup. And there is no half and half. Whole milk. The shop owner always pretends to have just run out of half and half, but we all know what's going on. But hey, if I had to pay the rent for a deli in the city, I would be trying to shave every penny off of overhead too.
Then there is the coffee shop coffee. These beat Starbucks and Duncan's every day of the week in my book. They have comfortable furniture. The walls may contain exposed brick. The muffins and black and white cookies are truly homemade. Even the grumpy line of pre-caffeinated zombies on there way to sky rise offices are, well, a little less grumpy.
Coffee shop coffee reminds me of Athens, Ohio, where I attended Ohio University. That college town is home to some of the best homegrown coffeehouses on the planet. And for a few years, I was a "regular" at many of them. Perks is a closer replica of "The Central Perk" from 'Friends' than anything I have found in New York City. The Donkey is like being in the house of your favorite professor -- you can't help but want to do something studious or discuss the obscure political problems of a country you nor any of your friends will ever visit. The Front Room (RIP) provided a place to always bump into old friends between classes, a place to watch infant musicians take the stage before their first audiences, and a place that reminded you how familial a 20,000+ student body could be. My brother tells me there is a new place called Bibliotech which I must try next time in town.
The thing that you don't get at coffee shops in NYC are "regulars." There are just too many coffee options. Too many uniform brown and yellow kiddie cups. There are probably more "regulars" at certain bars in the city than at coffee shops. More often than not in this town, we all brew our own.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Drive
I got to do something last night that I have always wanted to do: watch the 1986 AFC Championship as it was broadcast the day of the game. Of course, I did technically watch it live years ago with my family, who are all huge Denver fans. But there are a lot of things you just don't appreciate watching football at four years old.
This Christmas, one of my presents was a series of bootleg Denver games on DVD. Someone had taped the historic playoff games from the 80s and converted them from VHS to DVD and listed them on a bartering web site similar to eBay. While they were relatively inexpensive, the value of these games to me cannot be measured. There have been replay "broadcasts" of The Drive on ESPN and NFL Network before, but the film is always edited for dramatic effect. I had always wanted to see it how my parents and grandparents experienced it. Uncut. Goofy 80s commercials. Chris Berman with hair.
Last night, I fulfilled a small dream. The game had just about everything you could want -- hard hits, the elements, rabid fans, franchises that were starving for a taste of glory. Elway wasn't Elway the legend he became during my childhood and adolescent years. He was youthful. Erratic. Fantastic and risky. Unbelievable raw talent, but contained for better or worse by a conservative offensive scheme and a sometimes fleeting self-confidence. It was like watching a Formula 1 car driving through a school zone at 2:00 p.m.
Two things struck me most watching the game. First, before watching The Drive, I had watched the divisional playoff game against the Patriots. In that game, Elway was injured after a pass when a defensive lineman rolled into his ankle. If you remember the Bengals-Steelers playoff game a few years ago, the play was eerily similar to the play that ended Carson Palmer's season. But at the last second, Elway had slightly turned his body and avoided disaster. He came out of the play with an ankle sprain, but he was literally inches from tearing his ACL or breaking a bone, in which case the Drive and Elway as we knew him, may not have ever happened. So the first thing I was impressed with watching the Denver-Cleveland game was how much Elway was able to scramble for first downs and use his mobility, given he was coming off an injury which, while not debilitating, was no doubt causing him serious pain.
The second thing that struck me is how little the accomplishment of the 98 and 1/2 yard drive was celebrated by the announcers, until after the game. The announcers were just as silenced as the demoralized city around them when Elway connected on the strike to Mark Jackson. There was, after all, almost 40 seconds in regulation left. And then there was overtime. So the intensity of a game which had been full of momentum swings, did really ever cease long enough to reflect on what was to become one of a handful of defining moments in Elway's hall of fame career. Elway's back side was in his own endzone when he took the first snap of that historic march. What he did still gets referenced over twenty years later whenever Denver plays the Browns or even whenever a quarterback in a big game starts with the ball inside their own 10 yard line. Yet, there was no initial heaping of the praise from the broadcasters about the greatness of what had just happened. Sure they were impressed that Elway had tied the game, but they were well aware that nobody would care if Cleveland ran the kickoff back into field goal range. In fact, Cleveland even won the coin toss in overtime and got the ball first.
When a barefoot Rich Karlis walked out onto the icy mud in OT and booted the game winner in front of the subdued 'dawg pound,' the realization of what Elway's drive had meant finally started to take hold of the storyline. The lesson I learned is that greatness is not always instantly applauded. And a clutch performance might not produce a victory for you at first, but it might be the one thing that buys you time, that sustains an opportunity for victory, that moves the chains, that gains you the necessary yards to advance your drive, and that allows you to deliver in the moments that will define you for the years to come.
Don't forget to reset your clocks today. Every second counts.
This Christmas, one of my presents was a series of bootleg Denver games on DVD. Someone had taped the historic playoff games from the 80s and converted them from VHS to DVD and listed them on a bartering web site similar to eBay. While they were relatively inexpensive, the value of these games to me cannot be measured. There have been replay "broadcasts" of The Drive on ESPN and NFL Network before, but the film is always edited for dramatic effect. I had always wanted to see it how my parents and grandparents experienced it. Uncut. Goofy 80s commercials. Chris Berman with hair.
Last night, I fulfilled a small dream. The game had just about everything you could want -- hard hits, the elements, rabid fans, franchises that were starving for a taste of glory. Elway wasn't Elway the legend he became during my childhood and adolescent years. He was youthful. Erratic. Fantastic and risky. Unbelievable raw talent, but contained for better or worse by a conservative offensive scheme and a sometimes fleeting self-confidence. It was like watching a Formula 1 car driving through a school zone at 2:00 p.m.
Two things struck me most watching the game. First, before watching The Drive, I had watched the divisional playoff game against the Patriots. In that game, Elway was injured after a pass when a defensive lineman rolled into his ankle. If you remember the Bengals-Steelers playoff game a few years ago, the play was eerily similar to the play that ended Carson Palmer's season. But at the last second, Elway had slightly turned his body and avoided disaster. He came out of the play with an ankle sprain, but he was literally inches from tearing his ACL or breaking a bone, in which case the Drive and Elway as we knew him, may not have ever happened. So the first thing I was impressed with watching the Denver-Cleveland game was how much Elway was able to scramble for first downs and use his mobility, given he was coming off an injury which, while not debilitating, was no doubt causing him serious pain.
The second thing that struck me is how little the accomplishment of the 98 and 1/2 yard drive was celebrated by the announcers, until after the game. The announcers were just as silenced as the demoralized city around them when Elway connected on the strike to Mark Jackson. There was, after all, almost 40 seconds in regulation left. And then there was overtime. So the intensity of a game which had been full of momentum swings, did really ever cease long enough to reflect on what was to become one of a handful of defining moments in Elway's hall of fame career. Elway's back side was in his own endzone when he took the first snap of that historic march. What he did still gets referenced over twenty years later whenever Denver plays the Browns or even whenever a quarterback in a big game starts with the ball inside their own 10 yard line. Yet, there was no initial heaping of the praise from the broadcasters about the greatness of what had just happened. Sure they were impressed that Elway had tied the game, but they were well aware that nobody would care if Cleveland ran the kickoff back into field goal range. In fact, Cleveland even won the coin toss in overtime and got the ball first.
When a barefoot Rich Karlis walked out onto the icy mud in OT and booted the game winner in front of the subdued 'dawg pound,' the realization of what Elway's drive had meant finally started to take hold of the storyline. The lesson I learned is that greatness is not always instantly applauded. And a clutch performance might not produce a victory for you at first, but it might be the one thing that buys you time, that sustains an opportunity for victory, that moves the chains, that gains you the necessary yards to advance your drive, and that allows you to deliver in the moments that will define you for the years to come.
Don't forget to reset your clocks today. Every second counts.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Canon 1251
I have done a pretty good job this year about not eating meat on Fridays during Lent. In past years, there have been countless times where I will get to dinner on Friday and realize I had meat for lunch that day. Then it becomes a paradox. Does the day count since I had meat earlier? Can my meat violation be erased by a subsequent adherence to the rules? Can I not eat meat the next day for breakfast and that will count as a 24 hour period of no meat starting on a Friday? Organized religion left far more loopholes in this than God likely intended. But that's not exclusive to Lent either.
My curiosity on the matter lead me to get some background on the subject. Today is Saturday and meat will be on the menu.
Gretchen and Riham, her maid-of-honor-to-be, are spending the weekend in Atlantic City. It is kind of her Gretchenpalooza. So it is just me and Olive (the dog) for a couple of days. I am teaching her to play Black Jack. I am completely serious.
In NYC, we are getting the first nice weather weekend of 2009. But I have to admit, it would be to be walking the boardwalk in Atlantic City.
My curiosity on the matter lead me to get some background on the subject. Today is Saturday and meat will be on the menu.
Gretchen and Riham, her maid-of-honor-to-be, are spending the weekend in Atlantic City. It is kind of her Gretchenpalooza. So it is just me and Olive (the dog) for a couple of days. I am teaching her to play Black Jack. I am completely serious.
In NYC, we are getting the first nice weather weekend of 2009. But I have to admit, it would be to be walking the boardwalk in Atlantic City.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Fun Time On the Horizon
In a couple of weeks, I will be headed out to Ohio for what has been termed "Dustinpalooza." For a week and change I will get to see my parents and brother as well as my closest pals, which are collectively nicknamed Quad One. The Quad is taking me on a road trip from Columbus to Cleveland. There will be stops at Canton (to see my hero Elway in the Pro Football Hall of Fame) and Kent (to go to a place where you can get breakfast served in a "trough"). The occasion is a Bachelor party -- of sorts. I didn't want anything crazy or R-rated, just a good time with the guys and a chance to see the state I still consider home in many ways.
I am really looking forward to seeing my brother Adam. Adam is a blogger as well, a great photographer and a musical genius. I say that not as much with respect to his songwriting and guitar playing abilities, which are also amazing, but with respect to his ears. He has the most incredible ears of anyone I have ever met, and will probably ever meet in my life. And I am not talking about size and shape (although one of our soccer coaches once said his head looked like a trophy, with his ears as handles). But his ability to dissect the anatomy of sound is unparalleled. I look to him constantly for his opinion on new music. He is like the Simon Cowell of my network of friends when it comes to evaluating music. We disagree at times, but he is usually right. If Adam thinks it is good, I know it is.
That reminds me, what happened to U2 this time around? I took a listen to their new album "No Line on the Horizon" on their web site. Color me unimpressed. Don't get me wrong, I love the band. I love Bono. I've met Bono. I just think this album is void of melodic creativity. Putting in a few lyrics here and there about war and politics does not make up for the lack of hooks "wow" the listener. But watch them still find a way to haul in 2 and 1/2 years worth of Grammy awards. I won't mind. The Grammys completely lost legitimacy in my mind this year when they failed to mention the death of Dave Matthews Band sax player Leroi Moore in their annual list of fallen musicians. I have a feeling had "the Edge" died, it would have made the reel.
Anyway, the best thing about seeing Adam this time around will be that we can play some guitar. When he visited NYC last summer and Christmas, he didn't bring a guitar. I haven't picked up a guitar in ages, but when I get around to it, it is a thrill. Honest it is.
I am really looking forward to seeing my brother Adam. Adam is a blogger as well, a great photographer and a musical genius. I say that not as much with respect to his songwriting and guitar playing abilities, which are also amazing, but with respect to his ears. He has the most incredible ears of anyone I have ever met, and will probably ever meet in my life. And I am not talking about size and shape (although one of our soccer coaches once said his head looked like a trophy, with his ears as handles). But his ability to dissect the anatomy of sound is unparalleled. I look to him constantly for his opinion on new music. He is like the Simon Cowell of my network of friends when it comes to evaluating music. We disagree at times, but he is usually right. If Adam thinks it is good, I know it is.
That reminds me, what happened to U2 this time around? I took a listen to their new album "No Line on the Horizon" on their web site. Color me unimpressed. Don't get me wrong, I love the band. I love Bono. I've met Bono. I just think this album is void of melodic creativity. Putting in a few lyrics here and there about war and politics does not make up for the lack of hooks "wow" the listener. But watch them still find a way to haul in 2 and 1/2 years worth of Grammy awards. I won't mind. The Grammys completely lost legitimacy in my mind this year when they failed to mention the death of Dave Matthews Band sax player Leroi Moore in their annual list of fallen musicians. I have a feeling had "the Edge" died, it would have made the reel.
Anyway, the best thing about seeing Adam this time around will be that we can play some guitar. When he visited NYC last summer and Christmas, he didn't bring a guitar. I haven't picked up a guitar in ages, but when I get around to it, it is a thrill. Honest it is.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Birthday Girl
We received a nice package in the mail last night from my parents. It was mainly for my fiance Gretchen (but there were a few surprises for me in there too). Her birthday was on Feb. 17, which is typically a great thing. I have always disliked February because the weather is brutally cold and you feel so far removed from Christmas that the cold weather loses its pleasantry. But Gretchen's birthday gives me a reason to enjoy the month a bit more.
This year it fell during crunch time for the bar exam, so we didn't get to celebrate other than a little sushi dinner for two here on Roosevelt Island. Add to it that Valentine's Day was that week and you can really appreciate how patient and supportive she was during my bar prep. It is really important to have an angel in your corner when you go through that process and I will always be thankful for her guidance. To lift a line from the president, she is the "rock" of the Torres apartment.
I was happy to get the presents from my parents because it gave us a second chance to celebrate. I still plan on taking Gretchen to a Broadway show (something we have discussed for some time). It was nice getting a package because my parents have lived in Switzerland for the last five years and just moved back to Cincinnati this month. The distance made it impossible to send care packages, so last night was a nice little reminder of the perks on having them back in the country.
We were watching American Idol last night. Tis' the season. I cannot stop thinking about the emotional crackpot that is "Tatiana." Her antics are well documented. I just can't understand how she can break down like a second rate soap opera star every time her name is mentioned. Last night she was chosen to compete for a wild card spot and she was bawling within seconds like she had been given a lifelong achievement award.
She is the kind of girl that would cry on her birthday.
This year it fell during crunch time for the bar exam, so we didn't get to celebrate other than a little sushi dinner for two here on Roosevelt Island. Add to it that Valentine's Day was that week and you can really appreciate how patient and supportive she was during my bar prep. It is really important to have an angel in your corner when you go through that process and I will always be thankful for her guidance. To lift a line from the president, she is the "rock" of the Torres apartment.
I was happy to get the presents from my parents because it gave us a second chance to celebrate. I still plan on taking Gretchen to a Broadway show (something we have discussed for some time). It was nice getting a package because my parents have lived in Switzerland for the last five years and just moved back to Cincinnati this month. The distance made it impossible to send care packages, so last night was a nice little reminder of the perks on having them back in the country.
We were watching American Idol last night. Tis' the season. I cannot stop thinking about the emotional crackpot that is "Tatiana." Her antics are well documented. I just can't understand how she can break down like a second rate soap opera star every time her name is mentioned. Last night she was chosen to compete for a wild card spot and she was bawling within seconds like she had been given a lifelong achievement award.
She is the kind of girl that would cry on her birthday.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Comedian's Perspective
I went to a benefit comedy show last night. The headliner was Lewis Black and he was joined by several of his friends in the stand-up world. Lewis Black is one of my favorite comedians. I often watched his routine on DVD during my first year of law school to unwind after reading so much of the UCC I was beginning to go cross-eyed. He has a unique talent for taking all that is stressful, depressing or outright ridiculous about the machinery of our society and making it hilarious. The glass is half empty, but whatever is in his glass beats the heck out of what's in the full glass. He has you convinced that the world is so terribly screwed up that it is all actually going to be OK.
My favorite thing about watching comedians in New York is listening to them talk about our city. They have a perspective on daily life here that is common to all New Yorkers, but their jokes bring this city to life in ways that always amaze me. The city has a persona, a culture of its own. And comedians capture the brilliance and absurdity of how we live here. Vic Henley, a talented comedian from Alabama but who has lived in this city for 25 years, had a fantastic bit on how this is the only city on earth where people waiting for a bus will cringe when they see someone in a wheelchair roll up to the stop, knowing the "massive" delay they will incur as the bus turns into a transformer to board the poor soul.
Greg Giraldo later spoke about the city's resiliency. He told us about a memory shortly after 9-11 when he was downtown. It had only been a week or two from the attacks and the power wasn't even fully restored. He was downtown and he sees a pack of Jersey girls out on the town for some one's bachelorette party. They were all squawking around, phallic hats affixed to their heads, marching toward the next round of shots, completely oblivious to their proximity to Ground Zero. As he watched them stagger around in their stilettos and pile into their limo, he knew that this city could not be defeated. For all the destruction that the terrorists inflicted, they did not count on the spirit of this city. The spirit that allows the drunken clan from Jersey to parade around the bar scene while the smell of the wreckage was undoubtedly still fresh in the air. The spirit that says "Was that your best punch? Because Debbie has this wedding..."
New York City: always forward. You can stop it like you can stop an ocean wave from reaching the sand. Over time we learn to follow the current. And in small ways we add to the tide. Comedians understand this.
My favorite thing about watching comedians in New York is listening to them talk about our city. They have a perspective on daily life here that is common to all New Yorkers, but their jokes bring this city to life in ways that always amaze me. The city has a persona, a culture of its own. And comedians capture the brilliance and absurdity of how we live here. Vic Henley, a talented comedian from Alabama but who has lived in this city for 25 years, had a fantastic bit on how this is the only city on earth where people waiting for a bus will cringe when they see someone in a wheelchair roll up to the stop, knowing the "massive" delay they will incur as the bus turns into a transformer to board the poor soul.
Greg Giraldo later spoke about the city's resiliency. He told us about a memory shortly after 9-11 when he was downtown. It had only been a week or two from the attacks and the power wasn't even fully restored. He was downtown and he sees a pack of Jersey girls out on the town for some one's bachelorette party. They were all squawking around, phallic hats affixed to their heads, marching toward the next round of shots, completely oblivious to their proximity to Ground Zero. As he watched them stagger around in their stilettos and pile into their limo, he knew that this city could not be defeated. For all the destruction that the terrorists inflicted, they did not count on the spirit of this city. The spirit that allows the drunken clan from Jersey to parade around the bar scene while the smell of the wreckage was undoubtedly still fresh in the air. The spirit that says "Was that your best punch? Because Debbie has this wedding..."
New York City: always forward. You can stop it like you can stop an ocean wave from reaching the sand. Over time we learn to follow the current. And in small ways we add to the tide. Comedians understand this.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
A Revelation in Every Cup
That is the tag line on my Green Mountain Coffee cup. It is not the coffee I am used to, but it will do until Fresh Direct comes today. They were supposed to come yesterday, but NYC had a big snowstorm yesterday. Not as big as 2006, but big enough to almost bury my dog Olive when I walked her yesterday.
I took the NY bar exam last week. I am hopeful that all went according to plan, but it won't be until May that we find out. Regardless, it marked the bookend of my years as a student at New York Law School. It was about as intense as three and a half years of academia can be. But in a way, it was a race to the starting line. I am reminded of my friend Jeremy who just ran the NYC marathon this year. It took him three years of being rejected before finally being selected to participate in the race.
I have worked so hard and have absorbed well over 10,000 pages of cases and other materials to get to this point. Invaluable, yet inconsequential. But now begins the work of finding that first job. Putting my skills to real world problems. Fact patterns with consequences.
My fiance Gretchen has helped me discover the importance of social media. I am on MySpace and Facebook, and most recently, I Twitter. I have contributed to blogs such as Fantasy Olympics, but I had yet to start my own. My brother blogs. Perhaps that is part of the inspiration too.
I look forward to sharing. Law school can keep you a bit detached from the world at times. My revelation: It is time to step up to the starting line of this marathon. Maybe I can learn from the other 'runners' and they can learn from me. We can discover the race route together or perhaps, forge a new route. Either way, the gunshot has sounded. I'm off.
I took the NY bar exam last week. I am hopeful that all went according to plan, but it won't be until May that we find out. Regardless, it marked the bookend of my years as a student at New York Law School. It was about as intense as three and a half years of academia can be. But in a way, it was a race to the starting line. I am reminded of my friend Jeremy who just ran the NYC marathon this year. It took him three years of being rejected before finally being selected to participate in the race.
I have worked so hard and have absorbed well over 10,000 pages of cases and other materials to get to this point. Invaluable, yet inconsequential. But now begins the work of finding that first job. Putting my skills to real world problems. Fact patterns with consequences.
My fiance Gretchen has helped me discover the importance of social media. I am on MySpace and Facebook, and most recently, I Twitter. I have contributed to blogs such as Fantasy Olympics, but I had yet to start my own. My brother blogs. Perhaps that is part of the inspiration too.
I look forward to sharing. Law school can keep you a bit detached from the world at times. My revelation: It is time to step up to the starting line of this marathon. Maybe I can learn from the other 'runners' and they can learn from me. We can discover the race route together or perhaps, forge a new route. Either way, the gunshot has sounded. I'm off.
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